Rule 1. You must write. Got it. I could do that.
I got hung up on Rule 2. You must finish what you write.
I could not finish writing a short story to save my life. I was pretty messed up in my personal life in those days--trying to get out of a religious cult without losing my religion, drinking too much, alternating dieting and bingeing, doing temp work and walking around talking to the wall a lot. My best friend told me, "You say you want to write, why don't you write down what you say when you talk to the walls."
I did. Three years later I finished my first novel, a sensitive story of disillusioned youth. Totally unreadable. I would blush to even tell you the title--even that was beyond bad. But I finished writing a novel and I liked writing novels. I had found what I was meant to do for better or worse. I've since written nearly a dozen novels, many of which have been published.
I've also written lots of short nonfiction. (Even ghost wrote a nonfiction book, although I signed a contract not to talk about it.)
But I would have sworn that it was beyond me to finish a short story. It seemed like in the time I wrestled with a short story I could have gone ahead and finished a novel.
Until last week.
Somehow I wrote and finished, and published a short story Valkyrie in the Demon Realm! It's free on Amazon and in other formats. Check it out if you feel like it. What the heck, the price is right! It's based on the short novel Gravitas: Valkyrie in the Forbidden Zone.
I'm writing another short story (vampires this time) very close to finished.
It took a few decades, but I feel pretty good about that.
I to prove that sometimes less really is more.